#067. The Revolutionary Order is Too Kind (2)

#067. The Revolutionary Order is Too Kind (2)

The road to the Revolutionary Order.

Cecilia cursed the Order until her lips were dry.

“The Order’s Faction of Charity and Faction of Martial Prowess are both pathetic. The martial faction, full of old geezers, are desperate to seize power from the nobles and actively indulge in worldly desires. Apologize to the pure-hearted believers for trusting those morons! Apologize for badmouthing the nobles!”

Cecilia pounded the carriage cushion as if she wanted to beat the Order’s old men to a pulp.

A knock sounded from outside the carriage, and one of the nuns providing escort spoke through the small window.

“Saintess. If the carriage breaks down, the time it takes to return to the Order will be even longer. Please refrain from violent behavior.”

“But the pathetic old men made me angry first!”

“I trust you are aware, being caught speaking ill of others in the Order’s territory will lead to complications. You must be mindful of your words and actions at all times, lest you make a mistake at a crucial moment.”

“Alright…”

Cecilia even restrained herself from the ‘pathetic quota,’ forcing herself not to insert “pathetic” in every sentence.

Even Ian was astonished by her extraordinary effort.

“Can you give up a cherished verbal tic that easily?”

“I want to have a more impressive one.”

Cecilia couldn’t take her eyes off Ian.

It was an ardent appeal, to emulate Ian’s nobility.

And a subtle seduction, too.

Of course, Ian was a difficult man.

Fearing that the Saintess might somehow realize the true nature of the malicious mind-control sorcerer, he lowered his head.

Afraid that his true feelings would be revealed if he even made eye contact.

Whatever his inner thoughts, outwardly he appeared to be a truly virtuous and chaste young man, with his hands resting on his knees over his neatly arranged legs.

It was so commonplace for the nun who came to serve their meals to gasp in surprise at Ian’s masculine appeal, only to be met with a glare from Cecilia.

“You went yesterday, too. Change the duty roster.”

“That was before you secretly boarded the carriage, claiming you were bringing a snack. The rotating shift agreement must be upheld. I can’t stand the thought of you seeing Ian-nim two times in a row.”

“That’s right! If you have any conscience, go to the back of the line!”

A sister, utterly fed up with the daily scramble for meal order amongst the nuns, broke their collective promise and brazenly snatched a tray, heading straight for the carriage.

“That sneaky one!”

“So, that’s how it’s going to be?”

The peace was shattered.

A no-holds-barred, everyone-against-everyone free-for-all for the meals commenced.

This hopeless, petty fighting extended to the six daily meal deliveries, the incessant snacks, the eager service, all of which were slowly becoming a burden for Ian.

Clang!

A nun, desperate to be the first into the carriage with a meal, inevitably tripped.

“Fool.”

Cecilia gathered the nuns and berated them.

“Foool.”

They were speechless, even if they had ten mouths to speak with.

The fallen nun bowed her head low.

“Forgive me. The meal is prepared with other things…”

“Everyone. Please stop this fighting.”

The nuns were aghast that their antics had been exposed, but anyone would have to be incredibly dense not to notice a struggle erupting over who was delivering meals – six times a day, no less.

“If this journey to the Order Headquarters, for the sake of peace within the Revolutionary Order, is marred by fighting caused by me, I would be so very saddened.”

“I’m sorry, Lord Ian…”

“We were wrong. Please, don’t say such things…”

Ian’s ability to calm the hot-blooded nuns with mere words further cemented his reputation.

*‘Please, don’t draw too much attention and cause them to investigate the other saints of the Order as well.’*

Though he had chosen to go to the Order Headquarters of his own volition, now that he was going, the unassuming desire of the wicked brainwasher was to arrive safely, with as little commotion as possible.

“We must not cause trouble for Lord Ian.”

“We will absolutely not put him in a difficult position.”

Ian’s earnestness brought peace to the nuns.

But some peace brings unintended consequences.

“Let’s work hard so that the Headquarters doesn’t think of Lord Ian as someone who stirs up conflict.”

“Yes. To make up for our blunder, we must work even harder to spread the word of Lord Ian’s admirable character far and wide.”

“It’s not like we’re creating stories. Spreading the already existing tales of his virtue can’t be a problem, can it?”

While having his own, personal little saint would be nice, he liked the idea of a bigger, universal saint if that would prevent problems.

With tearful eyes, the nuns resolved to spread the word of Ian’s virtues within the Order for his future’s sake.

This self-sacrificing spirit, which the person in question did not appreciate at all, began to spread through the Order Headquarters at an alarming rate the moment they arrived.

Bang!

“Oh, Holy Saint. You must be tired after such a long journey with the Malediction Saintess. From now on, I, the Benevolence Saintess, Kasha, will be your guide.”

The very person Ian feared meeting most within the Order.

Another saintess had been added to the list.

“Hah? Aren’t you embarrassed to call yourself the Benevolence Saintess at your age, *ajumma*?”

“A-Ajumma… Ha, well, I suppose it’s possible for a Saintess who hasn’t received proper etiquette training to say such things. But it’s widely acknowledged that a well-mannered Saintess is preferred over a rude one when it comes to the education of the renowned Saint Ian, so I will graciously forgive you.”

“Hmph. You must be benevolent enough to take bribes from the Order’s corrupt clergymen and grovel before unqualified Saint candidates, acting like a tongue in their mouths. I wouldn’t want any of that kind of politeness.”

Even worse, Saintesses known for their deep-seated animosity.

Naturally, the aggro levels spiked explosively.

“They say the Saintesses are fighting over a single Saint. Ian must be quite the Saint, eh?”

“I wonder, just how remarkable is he, that Saintess Cecilia, who usually wouldn’t spare a glance for ordinary Saint candidates, is so desperately trying to protect him?”

The aggro soon snowballed into pressure from the faithful, all wanting a moment to speak with Ian, and a meeting with the higher-ups of the Order was scheduled far sooner than anticipated.

“The Order is divided between the Militants and the Benevolents. The Benevolents get their coin from the noble houses; the Militants do not. I dislike both, but I belong to the Militants.”

“The Council of Dogmatic Interpretation and the Inquisition distort and arbitrarily interpret the will of the faithful, it’s true. The Benevolents supposedly don’t discriminate or suspect based on status. The Militants are suspicious, hateful, and exclusionary. Narrow-minded… Ah, pardon. I wasn’t referring to a flat chest.”

“Ugh…! This saintess, all ostentation and nothing more, what are you saying in front of a child!”

Unlike the short, small-chested Saintess Cecilia, Saintess Kasha of the Benevolents was tall and generously endowed.

Kasha would smile at Ian, openly displaying her interest.

Of course, Ian, who had come to the Order’s headquarters solely out of concern for Cecilia, wouldn’t fall for such a blatant ploy.

“Saintess Cecilia has stood by Sodom in its most difficult times. Her noble spirit of sacrifice, never hesitating to stand on the front lines, is, I dare say, unmatched.”

“Hmph. Hear that? That’s how great I am. Don’t you dare look down on me again!”

Kasha, wearing a disappointed look, stepped back.

“It’s regrettable that the decision was made to send a Militant Saintess because the matter involved heresy. Had my deployment been decided, I could have done even more than Cecilia did…”

Kasha didn’t want to debase herself.

But having met Ian in person, she found him truly remarkable.

Most men are proud and arrogant.

Women readily fawn over them at the slightest provocation.

However, their demeanor changed in the presence of truly exceptional alpha-females.

Women possessing money, power, and beauty are the prime brides men dream of.

But Ian wasn’t trying to possess her.

He showed reverence and respect, as if honoring her position as a Saintess, respectful and awed.

He treated her as a Saintess, not as a woman.

But Kasha’s pride was wounded.

While harboring the same reverence, Ian was comfortable with Cecilia, lingered by her side.

‘If only I had met Ian first.’

Ian was unlike the other Saint candidates.

He didn’t act cocky or try to flirt, thinking “Why can’t we all just get along?”

And so, conversely, Kasha coveted Ian.

It would be a shame for such an excellent young man to falter and fail when he could be on her side.

Kasha, risking the consequences, spoke.

“Allow me to offer two final pieces of advice before the Order’s meeting. Don’t believe that the Militant members are without ulterior motives. There are ‘higher-ups’ in every faction.”

Even Cecilia couldn’t deny that.

“And don’t show any weakness to the Order. The Revolutionary Order is far more terrifying than it appears from the outside.”

“Hmph. I’ve given Ian warnings until I’m blue in the face! Ian, don’t say a word, just stay put. Once we’re in the meeting, I’ll handle everything!”

Soon, the time for the Order’s meeting arrived.

The Inquisitor General, the Head of the Council of Dogmatic Interpretation, and the Director of the Sacred Research Institute—all Militants.

The Commander of the Healing Division, the Captain of the Holy Knights, and the Financial Director—all Benevolents.

The heads of the six leading organizations within the Revolutionary Order.

The six power brokers greeted Ian.

“We are sincerely grateful to the Revolutionary Order for deciding to dispatch the Holy Maiden.”

“Hmph. It is not often that one receives thanks for dispatching a Holy Maiden. Usually, the deployment of a Holy Maiden is reserved for the eradication of arch-fiends that inquisitors alone cannot handle, is it not?”

The Head of the Benevolent Faction’s Healing Division needled the Head of the Martial Faction’s Inquisition Bureau, asking where those charges of heresy they’d mentioned had gone.

“The decision to secure an exemplary Saint from the safe haven of Sodom was also thanks to the thorough investigations of Inquisitors Maria and Ivetta. It seems the Benevolent Faction speaks with impure intent. Were you perhaps interested in matters other than guiding an excellent Saint candidate to the Order?”

“Some are busy acting as lackeys to the nobles, after all. I worry they might sell a promising talent destined to lead the Order’s future to the Aristocracy for mere coin.”

The six wielders of power continued their silent battle.

Cecilia grumbled, finding the tense atmosphere unbearable.

“Is *this* why you wanted to meet with us? Stop embarrassing the Order and get on with it.”

Cecilia’s audacity, capable of calling even the Patriarch ‘rubbish’, was something else entirely.

The six power brokers forced down their discomfort.

“Ian. Would you consider becoming a Saint of the Revolutionary Order? If you accept our proposal, the village of Sodom will be under the protection of the Revolutionary Order. Guarding the Saint’s birthplace is the duty of the Order, naturally.”

“Forgive me. If I am called a Saint candidate, it is thanks to the good people around me, not because of my own merit. I am not worthy of such a position.”

The higher-ups were impressed by the humility of the wicked mind-manipulator, who was not so easily manipulated himself.

“A youth of remarkable character.”

“This is an uncommon type indeed.”

The beginning was auspicious.

But the good atmosphere ended there.

“In addition to his gratitude to the Order, Ian has come to request the cancellation of Inquisitor Maria’s transfer. It seems our recruit is doing quite well.”

“As the Head of the Inquisition Bureau, I am proud of the recruit’s achievements. Nevertheless, it is impossible. The Inquisition Bureau, as a matter of principle, does not remain in one region for too long. Affection clouds impartial judgment, and personal friendships with vile heretics compromise the integrity of the inquisition.”

Even the Head of the Inquisition Bureau had reasons for summoning Maria and transferring her.

“I understand your concerns. However, Maria is willing to remain in Sodom, even if it means paying ‘the price’ alongside the village. She is prepared to resign and face any punishment, if necessary.”

“Must I be the one to point out how presumptuous that statement is? Holy Maiden Cecilia.”

“I know. It’s unreasonable. But the village of Sodom made a significant contribution to the nobles’ downfall!”

The power brokers were all equally displeased.

The Benevolent Faction saw the purse strings that the nobles provided to the Order dry up as their situation worsened, making them view Sodom with disfavor.

The Martial Faction was, if anything, pleased with Ian and Sodom for causing the Benevolent Faction’s woes, but Maria’s act of defiance changed their attitude.

“There is no need to give a reward to those who refuse to concede.”

“I did not wish to join hands with the Benevolent Faction, but it is undeniable that Sodom’s actions have negatively impacted the Order’s financial well-being. We cannot simply overlook it.”

“Huh? You were praising him to the skies just a moment ago. What’s with the sudden change of heart? You’re twisting words to unfairly assess their merit!”

Ian grabbed Cecilia’s sleeve, trying to calm her down.

“It’s alright. I was prepared for this.”

“You idiot…”

The six power brokers came to a consensus.

And they decided on the price to pay for covering up Maria’s insubordination.

“Ronoa, formerly a mage in the 2nd Platoon of the Hero Party, now a wanted fugitive by the kingdom. Capturing him and handing him over to the Aristocracy would alleviate the current unsavory situation to some extent.”

“If one rejects the grace of the Order and defies its will, they must accomplish this grave task with their life on the line.”

“That’s absurd!!”

Cecilia flew into a rage.

“Taking on such a dangerous task, they’ll be dead in all likelihood!”

“I shall.”

“Ian?!”

He knew the danger.

However, Cecilia was unaware of a certain fact.

Ian was a Player.

And Ronowe was the final boss of Act Three.

An enemy he would have to defeat eventually.

Storming Ronowe’s stronghold was an unavoidable progression.

If he could pay a price to take on a task he would inevitably have to do, from Ian’s perspective, it was an acceptable bargain.

‘To take on my responsibilities for a reward, I’m truly scum…’

It was beyond acceptable, to the point where he felt guilty about exploiting the situation.

But how would Ian’s decision appear to those without such knowledge?

“Noble indeed.”

“His mindset is that of a saint himself.”

His resolute demeanor made the six influential figures who were attempting to burden him feel almost apologetic.